The sun falls upon the fields
With golden delight,
Its rays brushing the tarnished grasses
Of rolling hills
And the fallen leaves around the surrounding trees.
It is time again,
That wonderful time again,
Where the wind is a bit crisper,
The days are a bit shorter,
The fireplace is played a bit more often,
And time is a bit more quieter.
This wonderful time called fall,
Autumn by another name,
With the turkeys roasting,
The pumpkins carving,
Apple pies a-baking,
The goons and goblins roaming,
And children singing for their share of treats,
Makes my heart warmer,
The coldness less nippy,
And the days much bearable to the human heart.
Its a time of transition
A time to enjoy all that is not covered
By the blanket of white that comes when the time
Is designated by the turn of the next season.
This little bliss we have before nature
Hides under its newly woven blanket,
We must enjoy to the best extent of our reaches,
For the time is short and spent,
Just as those summer days had been and gone,
So will the bliss, cheer and fulfilling nights,
Of the days of Autumns’ dreams.